


but first, freedom

by theslytherinpaladin



Series: The Lost Airbender [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Airbender!Zuko, Alternate Universe - Canon, Because Ozai, Details of pre-canon timeline have been changed, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Pre-Canon, Slightly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:28:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24726736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theslytherinpaladin/pseuds/theslytherinpaladin
Summary: For years Zuko has struggled to learn firebending. The sages are convinced that he has the potential if only he tried hard enough to reach it. With his father's patience running out, Zuko discovers the reason behind his struggles may be more dangerous than he could have ever imagined. After all, secrets never stay secret for long. Airbender!Zuko AU
Relationships: Ursa & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: The Lost Airbender [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1787839
Comments: 22
Kudos: 344





	but first, freedom

A firebender’s first memory should be of the flames. The smell of smoke. The feeling of soot. The warmth of a fire sparking to life. Zuko knew what his father expected of him, and so when he was called before the fire sages and asked about the memory, he knew what he needed to do. Even at six years old, Zuko understood the consequences for failure. It hurt him not to tell the truth in the way that children always feared doing what they had been taught was wrong, but he lied. He told the sages that his first memory was of the large fire that always burned in Grandfather Azulon’s chambers, how he could remember the way the heat had filled the room, the flames reaching for the ceiling high above. Embers had landed on his skin then, but they hadn’t hurt him. His father looked at Zuko as though he didn’t quite believe him, but Zuko stumbled through what he thought he was supposed to say anyway. Ozai didn’t interrupt. That was as close to approval as Zuko knew he would get. 

In reality, his first clear memory was very different. He and his mother sat in the gardens alone. Zuko couldn’t remember where Azula had been, just the feeling of certainty that she wouldn’t be interrupting. His moments alone with his mother had been few and far between since his sister had been born, and he had learned to take advantage of every chance he got to spend with her just the two of them. That was probably why the memory stood out so clearly in his mind. They were happy there, watching the turtle ducks by the pond and enjoying the fresh air. It was peaceful and quiet, and Zuko could just exist without worrying about making a mistake.

It was a single moment frozen in time that came back to him whenever he thought of his mother. Zuko could remember the sound of her laughter as he played in the grass. The way the wind tousled her hair as it swept through the garden, rustling the leaves overhead. It wrapped around them, a cool hug in the midst of the scorching heat of pressures and expectations that Zuko knew even then that he would never live up to. 

That was the memory that rose to the forefront of his mind when he closed his eyes. That quiet moment of peace and happiness. It hadn’t lasted long, but it was there for him to fall back on when he needed it most. Because Zuko didn’t like the heat of the flames. Didn’t relish the smell of smoke. Hated the feeling of soot against his skin. He could never tell anyone the truth though. Not when it meant finally having to admit what he had probably known all along. 

Instead, Zuko tucked the memory deep down inside his heart, hiding it away for when he needed it most, when the thought of the sun on his face and a cool breeze in the air was the only thing keeping the world from falling to pieces around him. Looking back, maybe that should have been his first sign. His life might have gone so much smoother if only he had paid attention. Then again, probably not.

* * *

Zuko didn’t hide, but only because it would be more trouble than it was worth in the end. Hiding was for cowards, and Azula would never let him live it down when she inevitably found him. He was ten years old now. He didn’t need to hide in his own bedroom. Instead he sat on the edge of his bed, cradling his hand to his chest and trying not to flinch at the sound of his bedroom door opening and closing behind him. His sister would know immediately what had happened, and he steeled himself for whatever teasing he had coming. That he was a useless bender, that he would never catch up to her now, that she was miles and miles ahead of him, and wasn’t he embarrassed by that? Their father certainly was. Zuko had heard it all before, but he wasn’t in the mood to deal with it again. His hand hurt, and he wanted to be left alone. 

The words never came though. 

When the mattress shifted, Zuko looked up to see his mother sitting next to him. He quickly wiped at his eyes, hoping that she didn’t see his tears. She hated to see him cry, and Zuko hated to see her upset. He should have been able to hold the fire without getting burned. If he were a real firebender then he should have been able to move past this stupid test ages ago. It was his own fault that he had been injured in the first place, so he couldn’t make his mother upset about it now. 

“Oh, Zuko,” she said, taking his hand in hers. He didn’t try to stop her as she carefully pulled back his fingers to show the burn on the center of his palm. The skin had turned a dark pink, almost red, the edges of the burn peeling. It was worse this time than any before. He should have expected that. The wound from his last test hadn’t completely healed before they told him to try again, and they had held the flame over his hand much longer than they normally did. They probably thought the pain would trigger something in him forcing him to finally gain control of his bending, but all it had done was leave him with a wound that would almost definitely leave a scar. It was ridiculous that he still hadn’t shown any real sign of his ability. The fire sages had been so sure that it was there, waiting for him, but his father’s patience was wearing thin, and it showed in the way the sages handled his training. After all, if he was a bender who couldn’t bend, then what use was he really? 

Zuko tried to pull his hand back at her sharp breath, but his mother placed her other hand on his arm, looking down at him with an expression so concerned that he had to look away. He stopped trying to force his hand from her grip, knowing that there was nothing he could do but let her dress it now that she had seem the damage. It didn’t make him feel any better that she had obviously known that he was going to fail again, bandages and other supplies at the ready. He didn’t watch as she wrapped his hand, hoping she wouldn’t comment on the way that he flinched as the bandage brushed against his raw skin. 

“Is something wrong with me?” 

The words slipped out before he could stop them, quiet and broken even to his own ears. He refused to cry, but the burning feeling that rose in his throat by fighting it only reminded him of everything that was wrong with him. He was a Fire Nation prince. His family had always been powerful. The fire sages insisted over and over again that he was a bender, but he had nothing to show for it. Some flickering candles and warm air was not enough. Not for his father and not for himself either.

“No, Zuko, of course not.” Ursa tied the bandage off and pulled him into her side. He breathed in the smell of her floral perfume, and let himself be wrapped into a tight hug, his bandaged hand sitting open in his lap. “You are exactly as you are meant to be.”  
Zuko hunched his shoulders, not wanting his mother to let go but unsure of how he felt about her response. What he was and what his father wanted him to be were two entirely different things. The lessons wouldn’t stop because Zuko continued to be a failure. He would have to watch Azula get further and further ahead of him, and he wasn’t sure that he would ever be able to catch up. 

A breeze filtered into the room through his open window, the curtains swaying, and Ursa took a deep breath. “I’m not a bender, Zuko, so I can’t understand what it’s supposed to be like. My father was though.” She hesitated, her arm around his shoulder tightening as she glanced back behind her, and although they were alone her voice lowered. Zuko hung on her every word. She rarely talked about her own parents. Rarely talked about her life before marrying his father at all. It seemed painful to her, and Zuko couldn’t understand why. If she wanted to tell him about them now though, he would listen. 

Ursa looked out the window as she spoke. “He told me that when he was younger there was a time when he thought that he lost his bending.” Zuko couldn’t hold in his quiet gasp of surprise. He had never heard of that happening before. A bender could lose their ability? To Zuko, that sounded worse than never being a bender at all. “He was going through some difficult things, and he said that he lost sight of who he was. The balance inside himself that he had relied on had been knocked loose, and he wasn’t sure how to get it back.” Ursa looked down at Zuko then, removing her arm from around him so that she could place both of her hands on his shoulders. She looked at him so seriously in that moment, that Zuko couldn’t turn away. “What he found though, was that his bending had been there all along, waiting for the moment when it was needed. When he found himself again, his ability returned.”

“I haven’t lost my firebending though,” Zuko said quietly, shifting under the intensity of his mother’s look. “I’ve never been able to do it, not like Azula.” His sister who had been shooting sparks before she could walk. Azula who would probably end up being declared the youngest master in at least a century. 

Ursa shook her head. “You cannot compare yourself to your sister, Zuko. You are two different people. The fire sages believe that you are a bender, correct?” 

Zuko nodded, still unsure. 

“And you have felt something during your lessons, haven’t you?”

Again, Zuko nodded. 

“Then I wouldn’t worry, my little prince. Your bending will come to you when you are ready, and when it does I have no doubt that you will be amazing.” She smiled at him, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. It warmed Zuko in a way that fire never had. “Now, I will talk to your father about halting further testing until that wound is fully healed. We wouldn’t want the sages to impede your lessons by being impatient.” There was a flicker in her expression almost like worry, but it was gone before Zuko could be sure that he had seen anything there at all. “When your hand is fully healed, I have a surprise for you. One I am sure that you will be glad to know your sister is not invited too.” 

Ursa left quietly, closing the door behind her. Zuko sat on his bed, thinking about what his mother had said while tugging at the edges of his bandage. Her father. Zuko’s grandfather. He often forgot that he had grandparents other than Azulon. His mother’s parents had both died when he was little, and he had no memories of them. From the few stories his mother had shared they seemed like he would have liked them. 

The peeling skin on his palm itched, but Zuko didn’t feel like leaving his room to find a distraction. If he left, Azula would find him, and he didn’t want to deal with that so soon after the sages’ test. She would have heard about it already, and the only reason she hadn’t come to tease him about it yet had to have been because his mother had been there to stop her. He was safe as long as he stayed in his room. Eventually, Zuko knew that he would have to deal with his sister and pretend her words didn’t hurt him, but his failure was too fresh to feel like he would be able to do it now. He hated feeling so helpless, but he wasn’t sure what he could do about it. 

His grandfather had thought he had lost his bending. Zuko wished he could find his in the first place if only so that he wouldn’t feel like a failure. Maybe it would have been better if the sages said that he wasn’t a bender at all. Then there would have been no need to him to pretend and no need for endless lessons that never amounted to anything. 

Confident that his mother was gone for the time being, Zuko got out of bed and settled himself on the floor with a candle, lighting it quickly with the spark stone in his drawer. He should be able to light a stupid candle on his own, but even that was too far outside his abilities. 

One of the first lessons he had learned from the sages was the importance of understanding the flow of energy in his body in order to control the fire. That part had always been easy for him, and after that disaster of a test Zuko felt like he needed to be reminded that there was at least one thing he could do right. He closed his eyes, focused on the feeling of that energy inside him, and breathed. He rarely meditated in front of anyone else, but on the occasion that he did he had been told that the flame moved in time with his breathing. Flickering towards him and away again as he inhaled and exhaled. It wasn’t the traditional way that a fire bender synced with a source, but it was a sign, according to the sages, that he was a bender. 

He just couldn’t light the fires on his own, couldn’t produce any flames when pressed. He learned the forms and did them over and over again under the watchful eyes of the sages and nothing. His breathing hitched. The fire crackled. He pushed the thought aside. Zuko was a firebender, whether he wanted to be or not. He just needed to figure out what he was doing wrong.

* * *

Somehow his mother had gotten through to his father. The sages postponed his testing until the wound on his hand had fully healed. It left a circle of skin red and smooth on the palm of his hand, but it didn’t hurt anymore, and it didn’t seem to affect his grip which is the other thing the sages had been concerned about. Zuko could live with a scar. While his hand was healing, the sages had him running through his for hours on end. By the time he was finally cleared by the healer he thought he could do them in his sleep, but he still hadn’t been able to produce any fire of his own. 

Azula’s lessons were miles ahead of his own, a fact that she couldn’t stop herself from telling him every time they had a chance to talk. Zuko avoided his sister as much as possible, but she had a way of manipulating the situation so that he didn’t know that he had been roped into playing her and her friends until it was too late. Mai and Ty Lee were okay on their own, but with Azula the less time he spent around them the better. That was part of the reason he was so excited when it was finally time for the surprise his mother had promised him. 

She came to find him early one morning when he had been sitting outside near the turtle duck pond, and without an explanation asked him to follow her. If it had been anyone else, Zuko would have been hesitant, but it was his mother, and any surprise she had for him was sure to be something that he would love. 

He was right, of course. The surprise ended up being so much better than anything he would have guessed. “Your uncle suggested that you might enjoy working with Piandao,” Ursa told him almost hesitantly. She had never been comfortable with the idea of him fighting, but she must have seen the way that he would bombard Lu Ten with questions whenever he came home from the war. His cousin had also trained with the famed swordsman despite being a firebender, and Zuko had always enjoyed those stories best. “If you don’t want to train with him…”

“No!” Zuko interrupted before she could finish the thought. This was exactly what he needed. He kept failing at firebending, but this. This was something he knew that he could be good at if he worked hard. Azula and his father thought mastering weapons besides firebending was a waste of time, but Zuko was already wasting time on lessons he couldn’t seem to master. It would be nice to finally have something to show for his efforts. 

Ursa had smiled at him, and Zuko had all but ran into the room where his new teacher was waiting for him. It didn’t take him long to fall into a new routine of lessons with the sages and lessons with the swords master. Piandao didn’t treat him like the sages did, as though he had failed the moment he showed up. He pushed him, but he never berated him. He corrected him but didn’t make him feel like an idiot for making mistakes. He offered encouragement, and for the first time Zuko felt like he was where he belonged. 

The lessons with the sages continued, but he still showed no sign of improvement. Every time they tested him, Piandao would make him wait until his hand had healed before letting him touch a blade. It was still frustrating to go into his firebending lessons expecting to fail, but he had his other lessons to work out his anger. He just couldn’t understand why he was so bad at it. He understood the movement of his energy the way the sages described it. He repeated the katas over and over again until he had them perfected. He still couldn’t produce a single flame, couldn’t hold one without being burned. He hated the feeling of the heat and the smell of the smoke, and his father was getting closer and closer to losing what little patience he had left.

To distract himself from whatever his father and the sages had planned, Zuko threw himself into his swords work. All of his free time was spent with Piandao or working in the studio alone. The time he had spent wondering the grounds without his mother had gotten fewer and farther between to the point that he had almost gone a full week without finding himself on the receiving end of his sister’s scheming. He should have known that it wouldn’t last. He was walking with his mother on one of those rare occasions they were able to spend time alone a few months into his lessons with Piandao when he spotted his sister and her friends playing in the gardens. Zuko tried to change directions, but it was too late. Azula had spotted him. 

“Oh, Mother!” She called as Zuko and Ursa moved closer. Azula had a smile on her face that Zuko had long ago learned meant trouble, but there wasn’t anything he could do to stop her now. 

“Yes, Azula?” Sometimes Zuko thought his mother suspected the cruelty Azula was capable of, but other times she seemed completely oblivious to it. This seemed to be one of those times, and Zuko already knew this wasn’t going to end well for him. Ursa didn’t like the way the sages and Ozai pitted her children against each other, and she wouldn’t let him back out of an opportunity to bond with his sister. 

“Can Zuko come play with us?” Danger laced her words, but Ursa didn’t hear it. “I haven’t seen him in ages! He spends all of his time with those silly swords.” 

It was a nice move on Azula’s part, pointing out that Ursa had unintentionally helped Zuko avoid his sister. She would feel guilty for that now. It was the perfect move on Azula’s part, and they both knew it. Azula smirked at him when Ursa turned her attention towards him. “Zuko…”

“I don’t want to play with them! Can’t we continue our walk?” 

Ursa gave him a serious look, and Zuko wilted. He couldn’t argue with her. Not when she looked at him like that. “Fine,” he grumbled, reluctantly leaving her side to step into the garden. Ursa watched him make his way over to the girls before heading back inside. The moment her back was turned the bright smile on Azula’s face disappeared. Ty Lee and Mai had largely ignored the exchange, but they both looked up as Zuko approached them. Ty Lee waved at him, balancing on one hand. Mai didn’t say anything, but then Zuko hadn’t really expected her to. For some reason, he got the feeling that Mai didn’t like him, although he couldn’t figure out what he had done to deserve it. 

“We’re going to pay tag,” Azula announced, her hands on her hips as she looked over them. “Bender against non-benders to make it fair.” 

“I don’t want to be on a team with you,” Zuko said, crossing his arms over his chest. He hated being bossed around by his younger sister. 

“Oh, no, Zuzu,” Azula cooed. “I think you misheard me. I said bender against non-benders. You don’t count since you can’t even hold a flame on your own.” She used the same sweet voice she put on around their mother, but Zuko heard what she truly meant. Ty Lee laughed quietly. Zuko’s face burned. “I heard about what happened with the sages at your last test. Father wasn’t very happy to hear that report. Did you know they think they made a mistake? You might not even be a bender after all.” That was a lie, but she said it with such certainly that even Mai was looking at him strangely now. 

“That’s not true!”

“Oh?” Azula asked, stepping closer. Zuko forced himself to hold his ground. Ty Lee had fallen gently to the ground from her handstand and was now watching the two of them carefully. Mai turned her attention back to her nails. “Would you like to prove it?” She held her hand out in front of her, a flame suspended over her palm. The scar on his hand from the failed tested itched from the phantom pain, and he closed his hand into a tight fist. 

Zuko didn’t move to take the flame, and Azula’s expression twisted. “That’s what I thought.” She turned to look at Ty Lee, who giggled again before rolling into another hand stand. 

“I’m out of here,” he said instead of the harsher words that threatened to spill out. They would be parroted back to his mother, exaggerated as much as Azula thought she could get away with. 

“Don’t go, Zuko!” 

“Yeah, Zuzu, stay!”

Zuko ignored the voices calling after him and stormed off, choosing the exit opposite the way his mother had disappeared. He needed to get away for a while. Spend some time by himself. If he were smart, he would use this free time for meditation. Finding the spark of his fire that he still couldn’t reach. The thought of doing that now made him feel ill though, Azula’s voice saying ‘non-bender’ ringing in his ears. She was wrong. The sages said he was a bender. He knew he had made the flames move. He couldn’t have done that if she was right. 

Meditating was out. Besides, he felt like he needed to do something. Move. Forget the sound of Ty Lee’s laughter and Azula’s smug grin. Piandao wasn’t there today, but he knew the studio they used would be open. He could work on his own and not be disturbed. It wasn’t technically encouraged for him to be there without supervision, but he hadn’t been banned either. That was good enough for him. 

It didn’t take long for Zuko to fall into the pattern he had established in the time he had been studying with the master. He forced himself to warm up slowly, knowing that rushing through the steps that had been drilled into him because he was still angry at Azula and her friends wouldn’t help him feel better. With his luck, he would probably just hurt himself, and his lessons would be put on hold until he healed. Zuko didn’t think that he would be able to handle that with how much he had come to rely on them. 

He worked through the stretches carefully, blocking out everything but the feeling of the pull in his muscles and his even breathing. When he finally stood in the middle of the floor, swords in hand, it felt more right than any of his firebending lessons ever had. This was a skill that he had earned. This was something that he was good at. It wasn’t fair that his teacher and his mother were the only ones who appreciated his skills. It wasn’t fair that he couldn’t just be allowed to have this one thing that he enjoyed without being looked down on for it. He wasn’t anywhere near being in line for the throne, after all. There was his Uncle Iroh and cousin Lu Ten. His father. Zuko didn’t want to be a firebender just because of tradition. If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t want to be a firebender at all. 

Zuko felt so much more at home here, his swords cutting sharp lines through the air, than he ever did with the fire sages. Yes, fire bending could be amazing to witness. He had seen for himself the skill of the masters, but it wasn’t something he could ever see himself enjoying. That was Azula’s space. His father’s domain. Fire was life and warmth, but it could also be pain and devastation. Zuko had a burn in the center of his left hand that acted as a constant reminder of that. The sages would push him and push him, no matter how much it hurt. He hadn’t made any improvement since that day, and he assumed the only reason they had let off with the testing as much as they had was because of the fit his mother had thrown after the last time they went too far. 

He hadn’t seen the fight, of course. Ursa knew better than to challenge Ozai in front of an audience. An act of disrespect like that would not have been ignored by his father. In private though, she must have done something. Said something. Azula knew, but she wouldn’t tell him the details. It was more fun for her to taunt him with the knowledge that his mother had given up something important in order to give Zuko the reprieve he had been enjoying. 

Cycling through the movements again, Zuko focused on the rush of air against his skin. This was so much easier. There was no pressure here. He could be good at this, great even, without the pressure of failure threatening to choke him the moment he slipped up. It was freeing in a way Zuko had never been able to feel with firebending, and he wanted to wrap himself in it and carry it with him always.

The worries were still there, of course. The harsh words from his sister and her friend’s laughter still echoing in his memory, but it was fainter now. The pain from it couldn’t touch him when he felt like this. He cycled through the movements one last time, throwing himself completely into the feeling. There were no sages here to hurt him. No sister to ridicule him. No father to disappoint.

There was only Zuko and his swords and the air and his freedom. 

_He was free. He was free. He was free._

He finished the movement with a flourish that Piandao would have berated him for, a twisting forward motion that looked more complicated than it was useful. He was blasted off of his feet in a second, his back slamming into the far wall of the studio. Instinctively, he dropped the swords so that he didn’t accidently stab himself, sliding down to the ground with a solid thud. 

Zuko gasped for breath, the impact knocking the air from his lungs, and waited panicked for the sound of footprints. There was only silence and the sound of his strangled breathing. No one was coming. Satisfied that he was safe for the moment, he didn’t bother trying to get back to his feet. 

What had just happened? Zuko stared at his hands, then across the room. Nothing was broken, and he didn’t think he was actually hurt, but he didn’t want to move until he figured it out. In all the times that he had practiced alone in this room that had never happened before. What had he done? 

Zuko pulled his hand close to his chest, palm facing the opposite side of the room, before pushing hard, his arm outstretched before him, Nothing happened. A theory slowly grew in the back of his mind, but that couldn’t be right. It didn’t make sense. Zuko’s entire family was from the Fire Nation he couldn’t be…

He couldn’t think of another explanation though. So he tried again, thrusting his hand forward and twisting his wrist like the flourish he had made with the sword. Nothing. Zuko couldn’t understand it. He had made something happen before. He was going to have the bruises to prove it, but why couldn’t he do it again? 

The answer came to him suddenly, the fire sages’ words ringing through his head. Emotions influenced bending. They could be used to make fire stronger or, if a person was unsettled and lost control of their breathing, weaker. What had he been feeling before he was knocked off his feet? 

Happy that he as alone for a moment, that he had the chance to enjoy this thing that was his and no one else’s. Frustrated that his talent wasn’t going to be appreciated because it wasn’t firebending. Free. Free to make mistakes without being judged or ridiculed. Free to be himself. Instantly, Zuko knew that was what it was. 

The panic he felt earlier had been replaced by a wave of calm as Zuko tried to focus on that moment right before the end of the kata. His breathing slow and controlled like the sages had taught him, Zuko repeated the motion again, twisting his wrist smoothly before thrusting his hand forward. A gust of air followed the motion, shooting across the empty space before him. It wasn’t as strong as the first one, but it was there. Zuko stared down at his hand in shock, his mind racing. 

He couldn’t firebend because he wasn’t a firebender, Zuko thought distantly. He was an _airbender._

The laughter bubbled up slowly, but once it started he couldn’t stop. 

Zuko, grandson of Fire Lord Azulon, was an airbender. 

His father was definitely going to kill him now.

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a series of one-shots that I've been thinking about for awhile that will span the length of canon. I'm really excited about some of the things I have planned. Please leave a comment and let me know what you think!


End file.
